KND: A Walk in the Park
by CallMeButLove
Summary: Sometimes a routine mission is just that. Routine. Other times it's more. Sometimes, a mission is just "a walk in the park." Please review when you finish reading! Make an author's day brighter, won't you?
1. Chapter 1

A Walk in the Park

A Codename: Kids Next Door Fan Fiction

By

_~CallMeButLove~_

KND © Mr. Warburton

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><p>A Walk in the Park<p>

Writing Operative: ~CallMeButLove~

"Calling Numbuh One!"

The KND Central Computer linked to his wireless communicator headset through the Sector V tree-house proxy sounded in the bespectacled team leader's ear as he strategized frantically from within the familiar, yet admittedly constricting, confines of his locker. This was the place to find twelve year-old Nigel Uno if you happened to be looking for him during a free period in any given school day. Not that you or anyone else could get to him there since he had suffered through that unfortunate incident with a certain red-head. As far as Nigel was concerned, lunch was highly overrated and besides he could avoid interruptions here and work in peace for the whole hour he had to burn. Burn it he did, working at a steady pace, nibbling on the occasional snack as he progressed just to keep his energy up, his senses sharp. Adult tyranny and the fight against it was a much more pressing matter than minor things like hunger.

Nigel Uno's most refined skill, his forté if you will, has always been planning. As a tactical specialist he could come up with multiple methodologies, several stratagems, tweaking and perfecting them until they would play out seamlessly in his mind. Then his team would be briefed and together they would polish the plans even more until despite any obstacle they could execute any contingency with expert agility and finesse. Yes you could say he was proud of them, this little motley crew, so different from each other, so outwardly mismatched. No one would pick them out and say they'd make great friends, miles divided their personality traits, acres stretched between them academically, even their looks and backgrounds did not line up. Five totally unique individuals brought together solely by the KND. Somehow they could work together as though there was a physical link bonding them to share thought. No one outside of the tight knit team of five really ever understood it. Sector V was just awesome, no one bothered questioning why anymore. Numbuh One could always count on them. His team would never let him down, never!

"This is Numbuh One. What is the message computer?", he posed the question without halting his work.

"Numbuh 362 has issued a direct order for you to report to the following coordinates immediately. Please proceed without delay", the computer's response filtered through the earpiece sounded a bit hollow, like tin. Nigel made a mental note to have Numbuh Two look at them after the mission. After all there was no good reason for poor sound quality in this situation. Not when the best tech specialist in the whole KND is on your team.

"Right. Transmit the data to my team via the communicator link 'SVT', Password: ******** ", he replied as he saved his previous work and gathered his things to get started.

"Also, deploy our decoys so that if the mission runs long we won't be missed in class."

"Negative."

"What do you mean, negative computer?", Numbuh One was perplexed to say the least.

What possible reason could there be for the Supreme Leader to order a mission and _not_ include the whole team? This was absolutely unfathomable, this was unrealistic, this was – a trap! That had to be it. The transmission must be a fake. Some evil adult enemy had actually hacked into the KND mainframe and, and... These rather overzealous musings were cut short by the sudden realization that the computer had made a reply and that the answer was still the same – no team, just him. He asked his follow-up question without preamble and included his rationale in the interest of thoroughness. He still hadn't actually stopped working all the way, as the unusual nature of this message had him completely flummoxed and work calmed his nerves.

"I mean, I need their help to complete whatever mission this message refers to, so clearly they need the coordinates as well. Unless - ", he paused in thought and proceeded to answer himself. The computer did not even register the pause it was so brief.

"Unless Numbuh 362 wants us to all arrive at our destination in one vehicle instead of our personal transports. Is that the concern computer? If so then I can certainly..."

"Negative. Numbuh 362 specifically requests that you treat this as a solo mission, Numbuh One. Confidentiality is also highly recommended as to your destination and the mission as a hole", the computer responded with it's usual efficiency.

"I see", the young Brit mono-toned.

He did not see. He had absolutely no frame of reference with which to decipher this situation.

"She has never ordered me on a solo mission before...", he pondered aloud.

He truly did not see, not at all. Also, the secretive nature of the mission was abnormal. It was not as though confidentiality was a problem for him, no he could in all honesty keep anything necessary to the cause of kid kind 'close to the vest'. His training had not been for nothing. Sometimes Team Leaders were entrusted with more info than the rest of a sector for security reasons. Keeping quiet was not an issue at all. He had just never actually been asked to do it before. Nigel had chosen NOT to specialize in espionage for a reason. The hint of deceit required for the job just plain rubbed him the wrong way. Of course he could do it, very well indeed, any operative worth his commission could. It just wasn't exactly his favorite aspect of the job. Nigel Uno was a naturally honest person. Lying left a sour taste in his mouth, it felt like selling out, so he avoided it for the most part. It intrigued him to no end how the issue never seemed to plague Abby. She managed to shrug it off and become a stellar, perfectly natural member of the intelligence unit. Yet no one ever distrusted her, she remained just as honest and credible as he was. Nigel just resigned himself to the fact that he was simply not cut from that same cloth.

Numbuh One broke from his reflections when the computer hailed him to confirm receipt of the mission specifications, which he should have given a full three minutes ago. That delay in response, a technical breach of protocol, served to underscore just how rattled he was by this mission.

"Numbuh One, please confirm", the computer system pressed him.

"Transmission received. Mission accepted, computer. Thank you", he finally gave the appropriate reply.

"Confirmed."

As the computer's voice faded from Nigel's perception, he began to run scenarios in his mind of how this mission would, or could, go. Since the specs the system had given him were vague at best, there were multiple possibilities. Without his team to back him up, Numbuh One felt rather ill-equipped. He landed his personal transport a short distance from the appointed place. Driving the black convertible would be far less conspicuous than flying it in at close range.

No one ever seemed to notice someone so young driving along the streets of Cleveland in a pint sized, albeit very nice car. They would probably notice said car _flying_ though. Normally obtuse adults could be annoyingly perceptive at all the wrong times, he knew. Never one to underestimate a potential foe, he checked his weapon quickly and replaced it in the holster. Ammo? Check. In working order? Check. He parked the car in a secluded area which would still be accessible to him readily in the advent of a hasty retreat being called for and closed in on foot.

Stealthily Numbuh One made his way toward the destination dodging between trees and bushes for cover in case the enemy should mark him. This could be a trap, or an ambush and when working solo, one could never be overly cautious. One wrong move and you'd - *SNAP* A twig betrayed him from beneath his booted right heel. Numbuh One hissed in a breath and prayed that his location was not revealed by the sound. Just as he felt able to release that breath and continue forward, he felt it. The cold, hard, unforgiving barrel of a weapon digging into his back.

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><p><strong><span>Author's Notes:<span>**

**I am sorry to leave you with a slight cliff-hanger. It should not be too long before the second (and final) part is ready, I'd say a week or less at the most. In the meantime, please review and tell me what you think. I also apologize for the shortness. I am clawing my way back from writer's block hell and I can't yet handle another multi-chapter story. Sorry. At least this one is not a dratted one-shot... I am tired of feeling inadequate when that's all I can manage. ;-)**

**Also I forgot to mention at the outset that this is a slightly altered timeline, since I needed Nigel to be older for the plot to work. You can interpret the change in one of two ways: Either the Galactic KND recruiting him never happened, or as I prefer to think, it happened later in his life - closer to decommissioning age.  
><strong>

**As any regular readers know, I LIVE for reviews so please tell me your thoughts! Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Nigel tensed for a fraction of a second. A single crystalline droplet sparkled on his forehead, in the summer sunshine as it created lacy shadows on him from the dancing leaves overhead. The bead of perspiration was the only indicator that the top class operative was under any duress. After all, it's not just anybody who is skilled enough to 'get the drop on' Nigel Uno. This adversary must be quite skilled indeed. He tensed slightly, like a coiling spring – and then he looked down at the shadow of his opponent on the grass as it fanned out alongside his own. That silhouette, he would know anywhere. Nothing made a mere shadow more distinctive than a KND issue colander helmet. The customized outline of this one could only be perched on the head of one person.

Because he was the Numbuh One, and because he could, the bald young Briton leaped into the air, pivoted, and flipped in mid-air. He landed more than gracefully, slightly crouched, and in perfect form, with armament drawn BEHIND his assailant. Tables turned? Check. Truck-sized ego boost achieved? Check. Smirk firmly in place? Check. The sun gleamed painfully into the brown eyes of the individual facing him, who now wore exactly the expression Nigel was hoping to see – Flabbergasted. Fortunately for him, that same sunlight shielded his eyes from view better than the trademark accessories alone could do. His amused twinkle could not be see by the person who inspired it. Good thing too, it would ruin his image completely.

Rachel T. Mackenzie stood blinking into the sun, now that her most talented and reliable operative stood imposingly behind her, which forced her to turn around. It was a rather disconcerting thrill to watch him in action and see first hand just how good the boy really was. No one could touch him, his whole demeanor screamed 'Invincible!' for the world to hear. It made her tingly in a way that she didn't quite understand, nor fully even register. It also made her sure that they, the KND, could accomplish there goals – as long has they had operatives like him there to lead them. Decommissioning Nigel Uno would be the hardest thing she would ever have to oversee. Being a year younger than the boy, she would not be able to avoid it. Heartbreaking thoughts aside, Numbuh 362 rallied and struggled valiantly not to show how impressed she really was. The fact of the matter was that the boy in front of her could get cocky on occasion, and the smirk currently enhancing his features clearly broadcast his current state of mind – headed full-steam toward cocky, no doubt about it. She chuckled internally when he allowed the shades to slide down just a hair revealing his slate gray eyes for just a second. The smirk had taken root in them as well; no surprise there either.

Perfunctorily, yet with his usual standard of perfect professionalism, Nigel saluted his commander and friend.

"Numbuh 362, Sir!"

"At ease, Numbuh One", she gave the standard reply, knowing he would be thrown if she didn't.

"What's this about a solo mission, sir?"

"Well, it's not exactly solo…", Rachel looked down just a tad, but Nigel was too caught up in a predetermined reaction to notice.

"I knew it! I told the computer that it had to be a mistake not to call the whole team. Now there'll be a delayed start, and I'll have to plan before they get here, and let me signal them now, sir before you brief—", she mercifully cut him off before the poor boy's blood pressure could rise any further.

"Wait, stop, Numbuh One! Don't call the rest of your sector…." Her shout rapidly lowered to a more measured volume when she noted his look of utter confusion and shock.

"But you just said –"

"I said 'not exactly', so no 'buts'. Follow me, soldier. This way", she nodded to the left a little and strode forward. Her Supreme Commander's instincts kicking in as she moved.

When she reached the chosen destination, Rachel stopped and quickly surveyed her surroundings. All looked as she had hoped. The food had been ordered on her private tab at Moon Base cafeteria, and she had hand-selected this spot. There was a tree in this clearing which looked remarkably like the Sector V tree-house tree, and she often came here when she had sparse time off. She would sit under this tree and think, or read, or just watch the clouds pass overhead while the sounds from the park's playground drifted towards her. The peace was what the sometimes haggard, always dedicated leader needed and the eerie likeness to the Sector V tree made her feel somehow closer to the boy who was standing at her side now. The boy whose eyes couldn't get bigger around if he wanted them to, so in awe of the spread before him was he. Every imaginable childhood delight was arranged on a large picnic blanket. There was soda, and all. Even the fabled, notoriously delicious Moon Base Meatball Sandwiches were present. Nigel was speechless – and impressed. He turned to the blonde next to him and wondered about the reason behind this impromptu feast. He racked his brain first trying to recall anything special about this particular day…. Academy graduation anniversary? Nope. Recruitment date? No. Birthday? Negative again. Nothing would come to mind, so there was only one option left; ask her. He did so whilst trying to ignore the funny feeling that the way the sunlight chased the shadows among the honey-hued waves of her hair made him feel. No such luck. When did she get so pretty? When did I start seeing that?

"Numbuh 362, sir, um… what is all this? I mean to say, what is all this for? It's not my birthday or anything, so…", he trailed off in mid thought, unsure of what to say next.

Seeing his perplexity, Rachel simply smiled and stepped out of her sandals and onto the blanket while motioning him to do the same. She watched as he complied and giggled softly at him as he continued to spot others of his favorite items. They were all here; she had made sure of it. If this was going to go the way she planned, then he had to be completely relaxed and that meant well fed and content. Maybe he'd let his guard down just enough and then she'd –

"Sorry Nigel", she stumbled as she came out of her thoughts realizing that he'd questioned her again.

"I just knew this was the only way to get you here without a fuss", she looked at her hands as her fingers worried themselves in her lap. "I know that it was a little unusual, but today your mission is to take the afternoon off", she paused while he looked at her, waiting.

"I am on the same mission, so I thought we could have lunch here – together", now she blushed an attractive shade of rose and he felt compelled to speak before his nerves got the better of him.

"You mean like a… a… ahem, a date?" Nigel Uno, who only moments ago was the cockiest thing on two legs in the greater Cleveland area, was now totally nervous. He hadn't been on a date since Lizzie. Not one.

"Yes, if you don't mind Nigel, a date", she sounded shy.

Was that even possible? Actually, Nigel knew Rachel better than most, and she was a quiet-hearted girl. Off-duty, she could be very introverted, but most operatives never spent time with her off-duty. Nigel was one of the few she allowed to see her true self. The natural leader was soft and elementally simple inside, and she fought every day to keep others from mistaking her kindness for weak will. The truth was, there weren't many people who Nigel admired and respected more than Rachel. Perhaps, if he were to be honest, there would be no one else on that list above her at all. She was smart, strong, capable, decisive, responsible, and dedicated. All traits he would count as essential, and coincidentally, the very things she admired in him too.

"Well, no I don't mind at all actually Numbuh- , I mean Rachel", he smiled.

"Why didn't you just ask me?" he asked, and to her shocked delight, he had removed the sunglasses. She could finally read his eyes.

"Because, like I said soldier, no fuss. You NEVER take time off, and you don't take anything as seriously as a mission. I learned that from lots of observation, Nigel. It's what makes you the best. Still, I figured that if I made this a mission, you'd come without questioning it, or chickening out if you knew the real reason", she smiled.

Her expression fell though, when several moments of steadily more awkward silence prevailed. Rachel had just about lost hope, and had actually begun to formulate an exit strategy (one that would probably entail stealing Nigel's convertible, then making Fanny return it), when at length Nigel spoke. Her heart pounding in her ears almost drowned his voice out. Almost.

"…"

"You are the one thing I take more seriously than a mission, Rachel", he looked at her then, and she was floored to see the depth of truth shining clearly in his still uncovered eyes.

"… Thanks, Nigel", she smiled and nibbled on another bite of her lunch.

Nigel returned his attention to his own plate. Several minutes of companionable silence followed, only punctuated by the distant squeals of children on the playground, the birds above in the big tree, the occasional buzzing of various six legged life, and the comforting noises Nigel made as he continued his meal. Eventually, the silence became filled with the whirling thoughts of each operative, until Rachel had an idea too tempting to pass up.

"So soldier?"

"Hmm?" He murmured through the last bite of meatball.

"You wanna go for a walk?"

"A walk?"

"A walk in the park, Numbuh One – a walk in the park", she laughed with the most genuinely light heart she had felt in a long time.

"On one condition, Numbuh 362", he continued even as she gazed curiously at him.

"That you let me hold your hand while we walk. After all Rachel, you said yourself, this is a date", he laughed at her expression then, which clearly showed embarrassment. He grinned proudly as her finger linked with his and she allowed him to pull her to her feet.

And so it all began one average, bright, warm, summer day with nothing more complicated, nor less magical than a walk in the park.


End file.
